


Active Duty

by Skinny_All_Mights_Segway



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Angst, Crimes & Criminals, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Hate Crimes, Injury Recovery, M/M, Major Character Injury, Physical Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:47:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28646247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skinny_All_Mights_Segway/pseuds/Skinny_All_Mights_Segway
Summary: Oikawa had seen them all at their worst moments. Being a chief of police in Japan's notorious Osaka prefecture wasn’t always an easy job. He's seen his coworkers fractured, physically and psychologically. Witnessed each one go through multiple life trials. Each one was enduring, pushing through, battling. Too headstrong and invigorated to conceded. It was why Oikawa cherished and encouraged them. This was Oikawa’s family, and he knew he would protect them with everything he had. But who would do the same for Owikawa? Perhaps the newly appointed director of the physical therapy center, Iwaizumi, will answer the call?
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Shimizu Kiyoko/Tanaka Ryuunosuke
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Active Duty

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Rescue Romance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22672702) by [a_very_smol_frog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_very_smol_frog/pseuds/a_very_smol_frog). 



> So I read this one fanfic called "Rescue Romance," and I just thought. 'What if we flipped the script and made them police officers?' And then I literally couldn't stop maladaptive daydreaming about it so... here we are folks!

Having the unrealistic ideology that your life will work out exactly how you planned at the age of 16 was not something Oikawa Toru could laugh about until his late 20’s. By then it was more of a pity chuckle than an actual amused realization. If Oikawa Toru could stand in front of his 16-year-old self not only would he smack the ever-loving shit out of him, he’d probably advise weekly therapy sessions as soon as possible. That way instead of becoming a single volleyball has-been he could have maybe developed enough emotional intelligence to get himself a freakin date. Sure he was attractive enough to get one night stands from any bar in any city, but nothing major ever came from it. His job took up most of his time, or so he had convinced himself, so usually, he wouldn’t waste important time on those experiences. Just move forward, don’t dwell on the might-haves and maybes. Oikawa was fully aware this dogma on relationships is exactly why he’s single. Hence the therapy would have been appreciated. 

However, assuming that Oikawa is unhappy with his life would be complete shit. Not only does Oikawa love his job at the police station, he loves the people too. Not many would have assumed the “Great King” of the court would end up becoming the Chief of the Osaka prefectures police department. It’s definitely not what his mother wanted for him, but it’s what he loved. 

Helping people at their most vulnerable or scared, to make them feel safe after a bad experience. It brought something into Oikawa's life that volleyball never could. Volleyball isn’t a selfish sport, you have to constantly be reading your teammates and moving as one. But for Oikawa, that constantly cooperative environment grew into selfishness. By his third year, he was feeding more into his egotistical image than his teammates. Now with this responsibility (and years of more experience), Oikawa was able to use his ambition for something more. And Oikawa had plenty to go around.

From heading the production of the first women’s shelter in Osaka’s prefecture to being the biggest thorn in the Yakuza and local Boryokudan’s side. Oikawa made sure his ambition and drive were used only for the good of others, never himself.

There was enough of that in high school.

Every 16 hour day, all-nighter, and double shift weekend was done to promote Japan's most dangerous prefecture into a more desirable place. In fact, since Oikawa attained the chief position 5 years ago, Osaka's crime rate has declined significantly. There was even a brand new physical therapy facility being constructed over by the refurbished hospital. Compared to how it was 5 years ago, Osaka had shaped up to be a livable prefecture, not just the Yakuza’s plaything. 

“Morning.” 

Oikawa sluggishly looked up from his case file. Willing his creaking neck to lift his haze filled head. Suga was standing in the door to his office, two take out coffee’s in hand and hip cocked in inevitable disappointment.

“I was hoping the lecture from the boss would’ve given you the incentive to finally go home, but I should have known better.” Suga snarked, slowly making his way to Oikawa’s desk. 

Oikawa took a dragging look at his wall clock, recognizing the immediate knot in his stomach as sleep-deprived adrenaline. 

“Well, you know me.” Oikawa gave a sly smile. “I just love to make life dramatic don’t I?” 

Suga gave Oikawa a less than enthused look, setting the coffee cup with scribbled markings on Oikawa’s desk. Look at it more closely, it looked like the remnants of a phone number. 

“So that barista at the coffee shop still has the hots for you huh?” Oikawa slapped the file on his desk leaning back into his chair. “Have you ever thought of maybe letting her know that you’re engaged? Or maybe even that you don’t like women?” Oikawa emphasized his point with an exasperated humph of his shoulders. Every time Suga gets sent for coffee he comes back with some desperate baristas phone number shakily scrawled on his cup. Never mind that neither officer can remember her name. 

“Funny you should say that,” Suga scoffs knowingly, “because the number is actually for you.” Suga turned the cup clockwise to reveal a nice little message written out to the ‘hottie in Officer Sugawara’s car.’ 

Huh, that’s new.

“Well, maybe I’ll give her a call,” Oikawa smirked, picking up the hot cup and inspecting the sharpied writing. “She must have come to her senses, giving up on you and finally seeing the beautiful view through your car window. Honestly, it’s a shame my beauty is wasted in here looking through files and shifting through case reports.” Oikawa took a sip of his coffee relishing in the creamy taste of Pumpkin Spice his nephew got him hooked on last Christmas.

“Uh-huh,” Sugawara huffed, taking a sip of his own cup cocking an eyebrow in distaste. “Speaking on files, what’s this new case that’s got you up so late? I thought you said you’d be better at getting enough sleep.”

“Oh, this?” Oikawa glared at the file on his desk, “nothing major, just an average run of the mill Boryokudan threat on the women's shelter.” 

Sugawara choked a bit on his coffee, “you’re serious? When did this come in?” 

“The official report came through right before my official shift ended, I’ve been spending the night trying to compile some sort of file on what we know and any specifics we can gather as of right now.” 

“Find anything useful?” Suga placed his cup on Oikawa's desk picking up the file and opening up its unbearably frustrating contents. 

Oikawa picked at the frayed cardboard on his coffee holder not wanting to look anywhere else at the moment, “nothing really, we got a motive with the messages graffitied on the building. But when it comes to means or specific group affiliation the only thing we have is that symbol on the left corner.” 

Sugawara’s eyebrows furrowed in thought, it’s not like the newest women's shelter never got threatened. It’s just that usually, Boryokudan hate groups would leave some sort of symbol or common style that would direct them to a specified subgroup. In this case, however, there seemed to be none of that. The writing and style of the threat didn’t correlate to any hate groups seen before and the threat itself wasn’t tagged with any known symbol or color scheme. It was an entirely new threat. 

“This is concerning,” Suga squinted at the file's contents. “I can’t really pinpoint any common patterns in this one, just looks like a high schooler graffitied some hate message on the side of a train.” Suga paused and flipped the file to the side looking closer at the photographic evidence taken at the scene. “But this symbol in the corner, that's the thing that's the most concerning.” 

Oikawa nodded, “Yeah, it’s almost like that symbol was put there by a completely different artist. It takes the graffitied passage to a whole nother level due to the strangeness of the symbol with the writing. I couldn’t find any regional Boryokudani affiliation within any aspect of the threat, yet the severity of the information through the symbol is too contrasting. There has to be a connection somewhere.” 

Suga looked up from the file in immediate discomfort, “Who found this?”

“The newbies,” Oikawa chuckled. “They were about jumping out of their skins when they reported it in.” 

“Well, Hinata and Yamaguchi are the only rookies left yah know, they feel like they have something to prove,” Suga gave Oikawa a pointed look, knowing full well that Oikawa was 100% to blame for the rookie's enthusiasm. 

It wasn’t that Oikawa was hard on his officers or anything, nor was it due to an unhealthy environment. It just so happened that half the rookies either quit or transferred to local police boxes. 

Oikawa just expected his officers to strive for constant evolution. There was no room for complacency at this level. Many rookies, especially in this new class, came in expecting to stay on the average level. Go in, patrol, and get out. Make their money then go home to their significant other. That was not how Oikawa ran this precinct. Constant rehabilitation and involvement in community betterment was their goal. There were times when they would go over the top on security for an event at a hospital because there was a slight chance of a riot breaking out. Oikawa needed officers that could get a job done as fast and efficiently as possible. He needed officers that he knew, when he gave them a case, that it would be resolved with proficiency and tact. Above and beyond to secure others in need, there was no appeasement for average cultivation in Osaka’s police department. Hinata and Yamaguchi proved themselves to be just the kind of officers Oikawa could depend on… not that he was gonna tell them that of course. 

“Well I might let them help on this case,” Oikawa shrugged. “Might do them some good, getting a case with so many holes in it. Builds character yah know.” Oikawa smirked a little, remembering his own rookie year at the precinct. It was full of sexual harassment, ass-kickings, and struggling power dynamics. Of course, Oikawa made sure the incoming rookies would never have to go through what he did, but a bit of hazing never hurt anyone right? 

Suga rolled his eyes, slamming the thin file back onto Oikawa’s desk. “I swear you're just as evil as the people who shot me.”

Oikawa gasped, placing a hand on his chest in an offended gesture. “You wound me Sugawara, how could you ever say that to a man so sensitive and soft? You’re gonna make me cry.” Oikawa sniffled, loving a good show when he could provide it. 

Sugawara chuckled, picking up his cup from just right of the file. “Oh I forgot, you’re a sensitive child. Gotta keep that in mind.”

Oikawa pointed his deadly finger guns in Suga’s direction, “Just thought I’d remind you.” 

Suga and Oikawa chuckled a bit, basking in the calm environment they could create in just a span of a few minutes. Of course, that was bound to change due to the minuscule file taunting them on Oikawa's desk. “Is it Yakuza?” Sugawara all but whispered, making eye contact with Oikawa intensely. 

“I don’t know, but honestly they’re probably our biggest suspects right now.” Oikawa deflated in his chair breaking eye contact with his colleague. “I don’t like the thought of them moving again, especially after last time. But they’re the only ones able to pull off such a ridiculous threat.”

Suga was still looking at Oikawa, an intense look still on his face. “It won’t be like last time,” Suga stated confidently.

“I hope so,” Oikawa replied quietly. 

Before Suga could respond, however, there was a reluctant knock at the door. Both Oikawa and Sugawara turned toward the opened door to see a skeptical Akaashi leaning against the door frame. 

“Hey um, the people from the new physical therapy center are here.” Akaashi's gaze shifted from the pair to the now distressed folder. “I can take that to mine and Kenma’s desks if you’d prefer.” 

Oikawa pulled his gaze away and studied the folder, scraping his right ring and middle finger against his palm in deep thought. “Yeah, I’m guessing with how excited the tangerine was about finding this case Kenma already knows all about it.” Oikawa snickered, “though it’s not like anything can stay quiet for long here.” 

Akaashi huffed a small smile, pushing off the door frame to stand beside Suga right in front of the desk. Oikawa suddenly felt a lecture coming on. “As much as I think this precinct could use a lesson on confidentiality my suggestion was more based on the fact that you haven’t moved from your desk since yesterday morning.” Akaashi picked up the file, studying the crinkled cardboard paper and small documentation peeking from the outside. “I’m guessing this is important because you stayed here all night, and I can only guess how difficult finding info has been because this file looks like it could barely hold instructions for an IKEA bed.” Akaashi paused, scrunching his eyebrows in sudden hesitation. “Kenma is already concerned about the safety of the new shelter as it is. If this is a connection to another group other than the regional Boryokudani we need to know before something happens.” 

Suga sighed, running his lean fingers through his hair. “I’ll go introduce myself to the physical therapy people, let them know where they can set up, and maybe help them out if I can.” Suga glanced at Oikawa with a spectacle gaze. “You think you’re gonna be able to round up everyone this time or are we gonna need the air horn again?” 

Akaashi snorted at Sugas's comment. Every person in this room knew exactly why the air horn was needed and the fact that they decided to berate Oikawa for its initial use was pure hypocrisy. 

“I don’t appreciate you all making fun of my genius.” Oikawa huffed, turning his head away in fake arrogance, “you’re just jealous that I thought of the idea. It’s simply hard being the beauty in a crowd full of beasts.” Oikawa uncrossed his arms, displaying them in an open position much like Jesus’s crucifixion.

Suga rolled his eyes picking up his now lukewarm coffee and taking a sip. Akaashi chuckled, breaking a rare soft smile to his friends. 

This was nice. A moment away from the danger presented in the job. Because it wasn’t always nice. It wasn’t always an easy job. Oikawa’s seen his friends broken, both physically and mentally. Oikawa witnessed each of their lowest and highest peaks, seeing each one go through many forms of wars and torture. Each one was surviving something, pushing through, fighting back. Too stubborn to quit and too inspired to settle. It was why Oikawa loved them, pushed them, and supported them. This was Oikawa’s family, and he knew he would protect them with everything he had.

“Well,” Suga yawned, stretching his back into popping a bit of his daily tension away “I should go make sure those physical therapy guys can set up properly. Make sure we can keep all those savage beasts in line. Last time we didn’t help set up a guest presentation we got a lawsuit threat and pissed off Kiyoko.”

The shudder from remembering Kiyoko’s silent fury that day ran through the entire room. No man on earth, heaven, or hell could stand up to that woman once she has anger in her eyes. It was like freezing cold lava was slowly eating away at your insides, a type of shame that only a woman like Kiyoko could bring upon someone. Tanaka was simultaneously the luckiest yet unluckiest man Oikawa had ever met. 

“Akaashi,” Oikawa placed his elbows on his desk as Sugawars left to find the poor souls roaming the precinct. “I really do think you and Kenma should head this case, especially on the information side of things.” Oikawa locked eyes with Akaashi, sharing a sudden understanding that the next few weeks were going to be interesting. “This might be a big one, keep me updated as much as possible. And if you need more men on the case don’t be afraid to take them. I want to say this is just a couple of high schoolers messing around-'' Oikawa paused breaking Akaashi’s eye contact to look at the file. “But something tells me it’s going to be a lot more complicated.”

Akaashi nodded, “I’ll keep you updated on any big findings, and I’ll be sure to inform you whenever I pull other squads into the case.” 

Oikawa smiled, genuine and kind, “I know Akaashi, we got each other's back right?”

Before Akaashi could respond, the sound of the fabled air horn was heard from the hallway. Blaring like a beacon of chaos and discord, Oikawa and Akaashi knew exactly what that meant. Suga needed back up. 

Oikawa and Akaashi shared a look, then both made a hasty exit out of the office. Oikawa grabbed his uniform jacket and coffee following Akaashi’s hurried pace. While the air horn was an easy way to get everyone's attention, usually in situations involving outside parties it was more of a cry for help than crowd control. And as only those entrusted with the air horn where those Oikawa trusted. He knew it wouldn't be set off for anything less than necessary. 

He also recognizes in that very moment that not only were Nishinoya and Tanaka on duty, but so were Tendou, Yamamoto, Lev, and the infamous Mad Dog. Suddenly Oikawa got faster, recognizing that the fun nickname came from the last guest appearance the precinct endured. Kyotani didn’t necessarily like the homophobic comments the representative from the animal shelter was making so he ordered the special ops dogs to tear the guys' paperwork and bag to shreds. It wasn’t unjustified but it was definitely concerning for Oikawa that a repeated experience was likely to appear. You could never tell with those darn dog locks, sometimes they just slip through. Not that Oikawa didn’t approve, he would just rather not see one of his best officers fired due to a homophobic narcissist. 

What Oikawa was not expecting was to walk out into an absolutely silent precinct, no loud noises, no bombastic greeting. Just the dull hum of the generator and slight sounds of cicadas in the warm summer air. Oikawa and Akaashi shared another look, this time of perplexed paranoia. Where the hell was everybody? Could it be that their ridiculous antics have started already? Is it possible that in their testosterone-filled minds they killed the guest speakers and are now trying to hide the body? Yes. Yes that %100 could have happened.

Akaashi walked toward his and Kenmas desks, placing his newly acquired file in his top desk drawer then turning back to Oikawa. “Maybe Suga managed to get them all in the conference room? That is where the presentation was supposed to take place right?” 

Oikawa shrugged, “I honestly think they killed someone and are trying to hide the body.” Oikawa placed his hand over his eyes pinching his fingers together to provide his seeing orbs with a little message. Damn, he needed eye drops, they felt drier than sandpapered cardboard. 

Akaashi hummed in acknowledgment, not really agreeing with the theory but not denying it either. He nodded toward the hall leading to the conference room and Oikawa followed his gaze. He wondered if they were trying to ambush them, maybe stick a pie in their face or some stupid shit. Last time it had been whipped cream and silly string. It was very clear to Oikawa that his police force did not like conference meetings. 

Oikawa took a long jug of his coffee downing half of the now luke-warm beverage down his slightly puffy throat. He really needed to get sleep. He started walking toward the still quiet hall throwing his remaining coffee in the trash on his way. He almost missed the skeptical look Akaashi threw his way, caused by him throwing out the only source of energy he had. It was nasty luke-warm, sue him. Nonetheless, they both continued their investigation through the precinct.

When they finally rounded the hallway corner to approach the conference room they heard it again. The air horn. They both picked up the pace and were practically running to the conference room doors. 

What Oikawa didn’t expect was his most rowdy officers sitting nicely in their seats. Eyes attentive and mouths shut, looking forward at what he assumed was the guest speaker. 

What Oikawa definitely didn’t expect was how attractive said speaker was. Standing in front of him was a man with the confidence and body of the Greek god. Emerald eyes stared down his morning shift, holding a gaze of complete control and steadfast intensity. 

Suga, who was standing to the side with Kenma, was trying to make eye contact with Akaashi through the doorway. Motioning for both him and Oikawa to join them in the eerily quiet conference room. Akaashi slipped by his now transfixed Chief. Breaking into the conference room and making his way over to Suga and his partner with a knowing look. Oikawa couldn’t be bothered with that at the moment. He was too busy being absolutely demolished by the man in front of him. 

With a body that appeared to be sculpted by Michelangelo himself, tanned olive skin rippling with each muscular movement. He had sturdy broad shoulders and thighs that looked sinfully delicious. Oikawa hasn’t wanted to eat something this bad since his grandma made homemade milk bread for his birthday. He wanted to die in between those thighs, wash his laundry on that sculpted stomach which you could clearly see through a tight athletic shirt. He wanted to be manhandled every which way by those powerful hands. One on the man's curved hip the other holding the air horn.  
Fuck the air horn.

The man suddenly noticed Suga’s failed attempts to get Oikawa’s attention, breaking his intense eye contact with the attentive crowd to glance toward the door of the conference room. Oikawa felt his breath leave him as those captivatingly green eyes met his boringly brown ones. He felt his heart quicken, his face heat up, and his stomach fills with butterflies that promptly dropped to his ass. Oikawa wanted those eyes on him at all times. 

“Hello, my name is Iwaizumi Hajime. I’m the director of the newest physical therapy center and head of the trauma relief department.” Iwaizumi politely bowed in greeting to Oikawa. “You must be the man in charge, please take a seat and we will begin.” 

Oikawa shook his head, breaking the infatuated trance the goddess of a man had placed him under. He nodded, numbly walking over to his seat and sitting near the front row right in front of Tanaka and Nishinoya. Across from him to his right, Mad Dog was sitting attentively looking at Iwaizumi as if he was Gandhi. Suga, Akaashi, and Kenma finally took seats in the same row as Oikawa obviously humored by their chief's reaction to the guest speaker.

Oikawa sat in his seat, eyes glued onto a man he was now determined to touch. Oikawa was aware of his terrible habit to make everything a competition, but moments like this are where “the Great King,” resurfaces. 

He would make Iwaizumi his, he would, it was already a goal in his head. And as everyone knew, Oikawa was never good at leaving a goal unachieved.

“The Great King” was going to get himself a “Great Queen”... God damn he really needed therapy.

**Author's Note:**

> I do want to note that these characters are police officers from Japan, which holds a very different code and system function than that in America. The police force in Japan is predominantly focused on rehabilitation and community interaction compared to the American police system. I do not support nor endorse the social inequality perpetuated by America's legal system, however, I would like to emphasize that the police system I am describing and placing my story in is very different from the current American climate.


End file.
